Sherlock Holmes - Study in Scarlet Part1

Sherlock Holmes Short Stories

In the first part of 'Study in Scarlet,' Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson investigate a mysterious murder at an empty house in Brixton Road, w

Key takeaways

• Holmes's deductive reasoning relies on minute physical observations—skin tone, posture, clothing, tattoos—and logical inference.
• The murder scene lacks robbery or clear cause of death, suggesting a hidden motive tied to the victim's past.

Main topics

• Sherlock Holmes' deductive methods
• The murder at Brixton Road

Notable quotes

There is no crime to detect. Or at most some bungling villainy with a motive so transparent that even a Scotland Yard official can see through it.

Conclusion

The episode ends with Holmes confident that he has identified the kill

Transcript preview

Speaker 1 (0:04) Oh, Stanford, I found it. I found a reagent which is precipitated by hemoglobin and by nothing else. Dr. Watson, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. How are you? How do you do? You've been in Afghanistan, I perceive. How on earth do you know that, Mr. Holmes? Never mind. It was many years ago, but I shall never forget that fateful meeting in the laboratory at Bart Hospital. I was home from India, invalided out of the army, and looking for lodgings in keeping with my pension. Holmes had just found a suite of rooms at number 221B Baker Street and wanted someone to share them. I'd been warned he might prove a strange companion, and so he did. I became more and more curious about him, and of course he quickly noticed it. Speaker 1 (1:13) I trust, Doctor, that these few weeks have not proved to you that I am too difficult a fellow lodger after all. Far from it, Holmes. I don't mind admitting you puzzle me, though. Puzzle you? Well, the way you work like a fiend sometimes, and as others you lie on the sofa there hardly uttering a word or moving a muscle from morning to night. And there's those curious visitors of yours. In one afternoon, a grey-headed, seedy fellow looking like a peddler, then an old, white-haired gentleman, a fashionably dressed young girl, and a railway porter. In that little, sallow, rat-faced, fellowless trade. We've been here three times in a single week. But I always apologize for putting you to any inconvenience in the matter, Watson. I have to use this room as a place of business. And these people are my clients. Yes, but what is it? Never mind. You don't inconvenience me at all, Holmes. I'm only too pleased. Thank you. But tell me, have your observations of me over these weeks reached any sum total yet? You might think it's a bit of a cheek, but I've been jotting down all the various points from which you've shown me that you're exceptionally well informed. Oh, indeed? I should very much like to hear them. You would? Oh, I've got the paper here somewhere. Ah, here it is. You won't mind, really? Not at all. Oh, well, it runs this way. Sherlock Holmes, his limits. One, knowledge of literature, nil. Two, knowledge of philosophy, nil. Three, knowledge of astronomy, nil. Knowledge of politics, feeble. Oh, you go on. Knowledge of botany, variable. Well up in Belladonna, opium and poisons generally. Knows nothing of practical gardening. Dear me. Knowledge of geology, practical but limited. Tells at a glance different soils from each other. After walks has shown me stashes of one of his trousers and told me about their color and consistency and what part of London he'd received them. Seven, knowledge of chemistry. Profound. Eight, knowledge of anatomy. Accurate, but unsystematic. Nine, knowledge of sensational literature. Immense. He appears to know every detail of every horror perpetrated in the century. Ten, plays the violin. Well, thanks. you. Eleven is an expert single-stick player, boxer and swordsman. Twelve is a good practical knowledge of British law. Capital. Well, I suppose I'd better provide you with the answer to it all. You see, the theories of observation and deduction, which I have frequently expressed to you, are really extremely practical. So practical that I depend upon them for my bread and cheese. But how? Well, I have a trade of my own. I suppose I'm the only one in the world. I'm a consulting detective. Consulting detective? Here in London, we have lots of government detectives and lots of private ones. When these fellows are at fault, they come to me, and I manage to put them on the right scent. Lestrade is a well-known detective. He got himself into a fog recently over a forgery case, and that was what brought him here. I see. And the other people? Oh, they're mostly sent on by private inquiry agencies. I listen to their story, they listen to my comments. And then I pocket my feet. But do you mean to say that without leaving your room, you can unravel some knot that other men can make nothing of? I have a kind of intuition that way. Observation would be a second nature. You appeared to be surprised when I told you on our first meeting that you had come from Afghanistan. My train of reasoning ran thus. Here is a gentleman of a medical type, but with the air of a military man. Clearly an army doctor, then. He's just come from the tropics, for his face is dark, and that's not the natural tint of his skin, for his wrists are fair. He's undergone hardship and sickness, as his haggard face says clearly. His left arm has been injured. He holds it in a stiff and unnatural manner. Now, where in the tropics could an English army doctor have seen much hardship and got his arm wounded? Clearly in Afghanistan. The whole train of thought didn't occupy a second. It's simple enough as you explain it. But Holmes, I don't really think that... I say, that fellow down in the street, I wonder what he's looking for. Oh, you mean the retired sergeant of Marines? Oh, now that really is going too far. Oh, well, we shall soon see. He's coming to our door. Speaker 1 (5:45) You know, the trouble is, Watson, that there are no crimes and no criminals these days. What's the use of having brains in our profession? I know well that I have it in me to make my name famous. No man lives or has ever lived who has brought the same amount of study and of natural talent to the detection of crime which I have done. And what's the result? There is no crime to detect. Or at most some bungling villainy with a motive so transparent that even a Scotland Yard official can see through it. Speaker 1 (6:17) to see you, Mr. Holmes. Oh, thank you, Mrs. Hudson. Come in. Letter by hand for Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Thank you. May I ask, my good man, what your claim may be? Commission air, sir. Uniform away for repairs. And you, uh... Sorry, sir. Royal Marine night infantry, sir. No, I'm just making a step. Good night, gentlemen. Good night, sir. Well, I'm blessed. Now, how in the world did you deduce that? Why, even when he was down in the street, I could see a great blue anchor tattooed on the back of the fellow's hand. That's Matt to the sea. He had a military carriage, however, and regulation side whiskers. There we have the Marine. He was a man with some amount of self-importance and a certain air of command. You must have observed the way in which he held his head and swung his cane. A steady, respectable middle-aged man, too, on the face of him. All facts which led me to believe that he had been a sergeant. Wonderful. Commentary. Oh. But I said just now that there were no criminals. What? It appears that I am wrong. Look at this. What? Would you mind reading it to me aloud? What is that, I ask? Oh, certainly, yes. Um, my dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes, there has been a bad business during the night at three Lauriston Gardens off the Brixton Road. A man on the beach saw a light there about two in the morning and as the house was an empty one suspected that something was... Ah, there was a miss. He found the door open and in the front room discovered the body of a gentleman well-dressed and having cards in his pocket. bearing the name of Enoch J. Dribber, Cleveland, Ohio, USA. There had been no robbery, nor was